the tips of her toes
by unravel
Summary: Quinn/Puck, Quinn/Rachel; Quinn works at her job as a ballerina for ABT. Completely AU.


She lives life on the tips of her toes. Balancing on the brink of falling, standing as very tall as she can. She twirls and twirls like a top, spinning and spinning like her life depends on it. In the moment it does. In the moment when she's dancing, it does. She's on her toes, tapping across the floor of the studio. Skittish. She twists and her hands push and flutter and she's a moth in the setting light of the sun streaming in through the windows. A ghost, a wisp of smoke, dancing like the moment the music stops she'll be gone forever, blown out like a flame. And she doesn't want to haunt. She wants to live but she doesn't know how, teetering always on the edge of tipping, of breaking. Tiptoes, always cautiously on her tiptoes. She doesn't know any other way.

On their way home, Brittany talks about this girl she's been getting serious with. Quinn knows her, the one they met when she reluctantly agreed to go out with B. "We live in New York, Q," the blonde had said. "What's the point of living here if we don't go out and enjoy it."

"I do enjoy it." Quinn had retorted back from the couch. Brittany laughed that light uncaring laugh of hers that says she knows she'll get what she wants out of you and you'll like it.

"Our walk to and from the studio is not enjoying it. Get up. You're going."

Santana, that was her name. Quinn holds her coat tightly around her as they walk, both of them still in their tights and leotards under their winter gear. She has been friends with Brittany ever since they were both hired. Brittany was one to immediately take to a person, trust them right away, give them everything from the very start. Quinn was never the kind of girl to move in with someone she barely knew but she had been living in a hotel at the time, trying to get a job. The job, the apartment, Brittany… it had been too much luck all at once.

"You need to meet someone."

Quinn looked up at her roommate sharply. "What?"

Brittany shrugged. "Santana and I think you need to meet someone. You need someone in your life." Quinn looked down to watch the snow on the sidewalk crunch under her feet.

"I'm fine, thanks."

Brittany's arm snaked under hers, their elbows linking like chains. "I don't think you are. I can tell." Quinn chewed her lip, her eyes still on the ground. She didn't need to meet someone. She was fine. She was better than fine. She was doing quite well on her own, thanks. Brittany squeezed her arm, urging Quinn to look up at her. Quinn obliged, blinking in a way she hoped said no, don't worry about me. I'm really fine. That never worked on Brittany though. The taller girl shook her head, smiling a bit. "Santana and I will think of someone. We can all go on a double date!" Brittany clapped, managing to keep their arms still linked and inwardly, Quinn groaned.

Brittany and Quinn were already waiting in the booth when Santana showed up, tall lanky male creature in tow. The Latina slid into the booth next to Brittany, giving her a languid kiss on the lips as the blonde giggled. The guy she had brought along hovered awkwardly, as if he didn't want to sit down before being introduced. After Santana managed to pull herself away, her arm wrapping around Brittany's waist and she gestured. "Quinn, this is Finn."

Quinn blinked at her for a second, waiting for her to add any other piece of information to that introduction but after a bit that proved to be a futile hope. She turned, smiling in a hopefully warm way up at the dark haired and extremely tall man. "Oh, uh, hi." She offered her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Finn seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and slid into the booth next to her, shaking her hand before letting go to run that same hand through his hair. "It's great to meet you, too, uh… Quinn. Santana talks about you a lot."

Quinn turned to look over to where the dark skinned girl was giving her a smirk. "Really…? Good things I hope?"

Brittany giggled and Santana kissed her temple before opening her menu nonchalantly. "Of course good things. Like how you definitely need to get laid and how you're all uptight or whatever. Uptight chicks are definitely the hottest in the sack."

Quinn turned nine shades of red as Brittany laughed. Finn was shaking his head violently, looking over at her with wide eyes. "Uh, um…. No, she didn't say anything like that."

Santana rolled her eyes. "Oh god, shut up, Frankenteen. You ruin everything." She turns to Quinn. "Finn works with me at the hospital."

Thankfully the waitress comes and takes their drink orders to put a break in the awkwardness that was clouding the table. After she left there was a silence, skillfully broken by oblivious Brittany.

"Quinn and I are ballerinas."

Finn looked over at Quinn, eyebrows raised. "Ballerinas?"

She nodded. "Um, yes. We're dancers at ABT."

"The American Ballet Theatre!" Brittany chirped and Santana chuckled, giving her a squeeze.

Finn nodded slowly. "Are you.. ah… good?"

Quinn laughed nervously, glancing at Britt who was nodding enthusiastically. "I'm okay, but Britt is great."

"She's being dumb. She's great too. Right now we're doing The Nutcracker, for Christmas and everything you know. We're dolls in the first act and in the second act we're marzipan." Finn was nodding again, listening to Brittany intensely. Quinn glanced at his face, almost laughing at his seriousness

"Well, uh, that sounds really cool." He looked over at her. Brittany was doing a lot of the talking.

"You should come sometime." Quinn's mouth turned up at the corners encouragingly and Finn nodded again, smiling widely.

The date went well. Finn was nice and after Santana ordered him a few beers he was a lot less nervous. Quinn, who didn't drink, smiled her polite smile and sipped from her Sprite. Once or twice she felt Brittany's foot tap against hers and she would look up to see the blonde smiling encouragingly at her.

"Quinn, you're not gay are you?"

Quinn nearly dropped the bowl she was pulling out of the cabinet. The morning after the double date, Santana and Brittany were intertwined on the couch watching the Disney Channel. Santana was looking over at her, eyebrows raised in expectation. Quinn shook her head.

"What? …No?"

Santana shrugged. "It's just a question. It's totally cool if you are. Obviously…" She nodded in indication to where her hand was grazing over Brittany's ass. Quinn shook her head again.

"I'm not."

"She had a girlfriend." Brittany mumbled from where her head was resting on Santana's stomach, her eyes still on the TV. Santana's eyes widened down at her girlfriend before she looked up at Quinn, smirking.

"She wasn't my girlfriend." Santana was still smirking. Quinn looked away, setting down the bowl she was still holding. "She wasn't my girlfriend."

Santana shrugged, turning away from her. "Whatever you say." And she leaned forward to kiss her own girlfriends hair and Brittany looked up at her, raising an eyebrow before Santana nodded silently. And the two stood up, linking pinkies as they walked into Brittany's room. Quinn made her cereal quickly, retreating into her own room and turning on her music louder than usual. Brittany had the tendency to be kind of… noisy when Santana was over.

In a few weeks, they were done with The Nutcracker. Brittany pouted when they walked through the dressing room on the way to the studio to see her marzipan costume was gone. Quinn smiled and gave her a squeeze as they walked into the rehearsal studio. The girls clumped together as they pulled their shoes on, ribbons wrapping around their ankles. Quinn watched the small brunette girl who was already ready and stretching at the barre. After a few minutes, Rachel looked back over at Quinn, waving a little and Quinn waved back. That was it before the Emma clapped, all the girls hopping to their feet at the sound and found places at the barres in the middle of the wide room. When Quinn looked up from her spot in front of Brittany, Rachel was still in her line of vision at the next barre over. She watched the tightly coiled brown bun on the back of the girl's head as Emma ran them through their exercises. Out of the corner of her eye though, she saw the company director walk in, talking to the directors where they sat lined up along one of the mirrored walls. She glanced at Britt over her shoulder, who shrugged a bit. Will didn't usually come in to look over the company when they were in between shows. After a moment though, he clapped and Emma stopped counting out ton dous. The dancers straightened up a bit, a few girls smoothing their hands over their hair. Quinn messed with her knit shorts and pulled up a leg warmer that had bunched around her ankle.

"As you know," Will's voice echoed in the high ceiling of the practice studio. "We've finished our Christmas run of The Nutcracker. Our next step will be beginning the spring season. I've chosen Giselle as the season opener. I want to begin the casting process as soon as possible so if I call your name, you're wanted in the studio B after lunch break." He nodded to one of the directors sitting along the wall who began to read from a sheet.

"Vikki, Stacy, Rachel, Kirsten, Carolina, Liz, Brittany, India, and…" She pauses, flipping the page. "Quinn."

Quinn let out a breath, turning to look back at Brittany, who grinned, poking Quinn in the side. She smiled a little but turned back around, chewing her lip. Rachel's hands are on her hips and without even looking at her face Quinn knew she looked pleased.

Brittany and Quinn eat their lunch sitting in the hallway and Britt doesn't even try to make her talk because she knows she's nervous. Brittany never gets nervous about anything. She's a brilliant dancer but would never push to be a principal. Quinn looks over at her sadly. She could be so great if she just pushed a little.

In studio B, all of the girls sit spread out, stretching in silence. Quinn sits, expecting Brittany to find her own spot, but she just sits down right next to her. They stretch and Brittany is singing to herself when Will and few of the company directors walk in. "Okay ladies, we're just going to have you run through Giselle's first dance of Act I for now. Rachel, if you would.." The girls stand and Quinn glances to where Rachel is taking her place in the middle of the studio. Her eyes are still on the brunette when Brittany reaches over to squeeze her hand. Quinn looks up at her, frowning but Brittany smiles positively, pulling her down to sit against the mirror as the piano begins. After a few beats, Rachel is dancing across the studio, the stiff tips of her shoes beating against the rubbery floor. Quinn purses her lips, not wanting to look away and unable to do so in the first place.

A few more girls run through the same choreography they all know by heart. Giselle is a precious role in their small little world and this is an opportunity none of them are willing to blow. Even Brittany dances with a little more unf than usual and Quinn grins at her as she finishes, clapping louder than the other dancers. When it's her turn, she takes the same place as the other girls in the middle of studio, letting her arms lift away from her sides a bit. In the moment before the music starts she thinks she sees Rachel smile at her. But the piano notes echo in the hollow room and Quinn is dancing, her legs kicking up in time to the music, spinning as her arms find that familiar circle in front of her body like she's holding a beach ball full to the brim with air. She finds herself in the mirror above the other girls' heads, watching as she goes through the routine. It's only a second, a moments glance where she looks at the girls faces. First Brittany, then the girl next to her. Then Rachel, who is looking at Quinn in a way that she's never seen before. It's only a second before Quinn feels herself loose her footing and her vision goes blurry. She barely feels her head hit the ground when she falls.

Someone is squeezing her hand very tightly and something on her forehead is really cold.

"Quinn?" The sound of the voice slaps her temple like a mallet and she winces at the dull throbbing in the back of her skull. But the movement of her wince seems to encourage the hand that's holding hers because it squeezes tighter and the coldness on her forehead is pulled away. There's mumbling, but it's the same voice as before. "She's coming to, I think."

A different voice, kind of familiar. "They said she hit her head pretty hard when she fell."

"Yeah, dude, I heard."

"Well are you gonna check if she has a concussion, or something?"

"She's not even awake. Damn, this is why they only let you _drive_ the ambulance, Finn." Quinn groans, the throbbing in her head growing heavier. This seems to get the attention of the voices, one of whom must be holding her hand. "Quinn, can you hear me?" She exhales slowly before her eyes open, blinking in the fluorescent light of the studio. There's a man kneeling on the floor beside her and he smiles widely. "Hi, sleeping beauty." He reaches up and puts a cold compress on her head. That must've been the cold from before.

"What happened?" Quinn mumbles, licking her cracked lips. The man is checking the pulse in her wrist and her voice must've been too soft for him to hear but another man is leaning over her, his hands on his knees as he smiles.

"Quinn! Hi!"

She blinks. "Finn?" He nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah, uh… I drive the ambulance. Remember, Santana told you I work at the hospital?"

Quinn nods slowly but she's looking at the man kneeling next to her again. He looks between her and Finn. "You two know each other?"

"Quinn is friends with Santana, Puck." The man, who is apparently named Puck, nods, looking down at her. She blinks back up at him.

"You have hot friends, Quinn." He smirks, cocking an eyebrow at her before his eyes scan over the length of her body stretched out on the floor. "I guess they run in packs."

She reached down, tugging at her shorts in an attempt to cover her thighs but it doesn't faze him. He looks up at Finn. "Isn't Santana's girlfriend a dancer? That blonde chick with the rack?" Finn nods, pointing over at Brittany, who's chewing her thumbnail and looking rather worried against the wall.

"Yeah, that girl over there. That's Brittany."

Puck looks back down at Quinn. "She your friend?"

Quinn nods. "Um… yeah." He nods back and lets go of her hand, looking over to where the girls are standing against the mirror.

"She's fine, ladies. Brittany? Can you come here?"

Brittany runs over, still looking worried as she kneels down opposite Puck. Quinn smiles, trying to look encouraging. Brittany looks up at Puck. "She's not dying, right?"

He chuckles, helping Quinn sit up. "Nah, she just fainted. She'll be alright." He reaches to brush a strand of hair away from Quinn's face that had been pulled free of her bun in the tussle and she blinks at him. He winks. "You might wanna take a break though. Your blood pressure's pretty high and we can't have a great ass like yours keeling over any time soon. Fucking tragedy." Quinn nods absentmindedly, her head swimming and Brittany helps her to her feet.

"I don't have to ride in the ambulance right?" At the sound of her voice, Puck looks up from his clipboard. He stares at her for a long moment before he realizes she's serious and starts to laugh, shaking his head.

"No, you're good. But like I said—" He reaches out, pointing his pen so it's almost touching her nose. "Rest. Take a few days off." Then he shrugs. "Or not. Whatever." And he turns to walk away but she can see he's smiling.

Will agrees that she needs a break and gives her a few days off. She tries to protest but he forbids her to come back to the studio until she's had a day or two of rest. Brittany offers to walk her home but Quinn refuses. She needs to stay for the rest of the day so Will will actually consider her for the principal. Brittany deserves it.

It isn't until she takes off her coat at home and is taking down her hair that she notices a pen mark on her hand. Upon closer examination it's a phone number. He had written his phone number on her hand while she was unconscious.

Quinn doesn't even think about calling him until she gets out of the shower the next morning and something about seeing the number faded against her skin makes her start to panic. She dials the number three times and deletes it before she finally hits send.

"…hullo…?" He sounds underwater and in a tunnel and faraway. Quinn frowns.

"Hello?"

There's a groan. "Fuck… yeah? Who is this? Kelly?" There's a rustle. "Dammit, okay, I told you I'm not coming in today, it's my day off and I just want to sleep and I'm not coming in just to fuck you in the doctor's lounge again, okay?"

Quinn is silent for a moment before she starts to laugh. "Oh my god."

"Kelly?"

"Oh my god, no.. uh, this is Quinn? The girl from the ballet studio yesterday?" There's a silence. "You said I, ah… had a really nice ass?"

"Oh! Sleeping beauty!" There's another rustle, like he's shifting in bed. He sighs into the phone and she can hear a smirk. "You found my number."

"Yeah, you wrote it on my hand."

He chuckles. "Yeah. So, you wanna go out?"

"What makes you think that?"

"Well, you called didn't you? I don't think a busy girl like you would call just so she could politely decline."

Quinn couldn't help but smirk. "What makes you think I'm polite?" He says he'll pick her up in an hour in front of her apartment building.

She's waiting for him at the curb when he pulls up. He's on a motorcycle.

"What is this?"

He pulls his helmet off, giving her a once over. "What happened to your tights? I liked them."

"This is a motorcycle."

"Uh, yeah. It is. Her name's Gina." He quirks his lips at her, patting the space on the seat behind him. She shakes her head.

"I can't ride a motorcycle. I'm wearing a dress."

Puck frowns, pulling a spare helmet off the back of the bike. "But… I have an extra helmet…" She folds her arms in front of her chest, raising an eyebrow. He sticks out his bottom lip. "Come on. I had a really nice day planned." He shakes the helmet at her. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

He hits the helmet against her arm gently a few times until she finally sighs, taking it reluctantly and shoving it onto her head. She buckles the strap and climbs on behind him, careful of the muffler near her exposed calf. Quinn hesitates before her arms wrap around his chest and she can feel the muscles in his stomach through his jacket as he pulls away from the curb and down the street.

He parks in the lot for Coney Island and she peers around him to make sure she knows where they are. He pulls his helmet off and climbs off the bike, but she's a little slower, doubtful.

"Coney Island?"

Puck runs a hand over his head, blinking at her. "Uh, yeah? Coney Island is awesome." Quinn swings her leg over the bike, careful that he doesn't get a flash of anything in the process. She holds the helmet in her lap, looking up at him skeptically.

"I'm twenty-two and you take me to Coney Island?"

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly. "I'll buy you a hot dog?" Puck cocks his head at her, showing his teeth as he smiles. Quinn rolls her eyes.

"Cotton candy. No hot dogs." He grabs the helmet from her, strapping the two of them to the back of the bike and pulls her up.

"Well, come on then!"

Whether or not Quinn wanted to, she has fun. He makes her ride the Wonder Wheel even though she's scared of heights and starts freaking out at the top and she makes him ride the Tilt-a-Whirl. He looks like he's going to throw up when they get off of it even though he claims he's fine. He wins her a stuffed sheep at the shooting range. She pleads with him for ten minutes after he buys her cotton candy to take pictures with her in the photobooth next to the stand. It takes a lot of convincing and pouting but eventually she manages to pull him into the booth. They smile and stick their tongues out and he tries to tickle her as the camera clicks away. In the last frame, he kisses her.

They start seeing each other whenever he has time off. It's not often, but it's enough. He takes her out to dinner at a fancy restaurant and they only sit at the table for five minutes before they share a look and stand up, walking down the street to a burger joint. She puts her hand in the pocket of his coat as they walk.

They eat their burgers sitting on a park bench, him leaned back nonchalantly with his arm stretched out on the back of the bench behind her. They're comfortably silent for a long time before she speaks.

"My company announces the casting of our next show tomorrow."

He looks over at her, mouth full. "Wha?"

"The casting? Like, who plays who?" Puck nods.

"Ah… cool? That's cool right?" She nods before she shrugs her shoulders. She sits up a little. "What?"

Quinn hesitates before she speaks. She isn't big on sharing and they haven't gone out that long. But there's something here and she knows it. This isn't a joke. "I'd really like to be the principal… the lead, I mean, but—"

He's leaning towards her. "But what?"

She blinks at how close his face is to hers. He's studying her expression intently. "But… I won't get it."

"Why not?"

"That's just not how it works."

Puck frowns, finishing his burger before he crumples the wrapper up into a ball. "Bullshit."

"What?"

He works his jaw, his arm sliding back to the bench behind her, leaning towards her. "That's bullshit. You can do it. You're a fucking great dancer, Quinn."

She gives him a look. "You've never seen me dance."

"Those thighs… fuck, I don't even have to see it. I just know."

Quinn shakes her head, rolling her eyes and finishes her burger, not answering him. He doesn't push it but his hand rubs her shoulder and the gesture is comforting.

The next day, the casting sheet tells her that Rachel got the lead. Quinn is the alternate. She's angry on the walk home and Brittany pleads with her.

"It should've been you, B."

"No no no… Quinn, please don't ruin it for yourself. Quinn, I'm so happy for you. Please." Brittany stops them, grabbing her hands. "Please. Be happy for you too?"

Quinn sighs, looking up at her disdainfully. She doesn't want to be happy when Brittany deserves it.

She's hanging her coat up when they get home and her cell phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Are you home yet?"

"Puck?"

There's an irritated sigh. "Yes. Are you home? Did you get it?"

"The part?"

"Yes! Goddamn, Quinn. Did you get it?"

"I… I'm the alternate."

There's a silence. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means… if Rach— if the girl who got cast as the lead can't do it or something, then I'm the lead."

"So like… runner up?"

"Yeah, I guess."

He laughs into the receiver. "That's fucking awesome! That's good, right?"

Quinn is smiling too, rubbing her hand over her forehead. "Yeah… I guess it's good."

"Fuck yeah. My girl's an alternate." Quinn licks her lips, her eyebrows raising.

"Your girl?"

"Uh… yeah. You're my girl right? That's what this is? Because if it's not, that's cool too. But I kind of thought that… you know… we're together. I mean, we haven't fucked yet or anything but I think we're together. Right?" Quinn is grinning now, looking down at her feet. "Quinn? You there?"

"I'm here."

"We're together right? You and me?"

"Yeah. We're together." He laughs and there's a pause. "Puck?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"What's your real name?"

The next day at the studio, Rachel comes up to her.

"Hi."

Quinn looks up, the voice breaking through her thoughts and she sits up from where she's stretching over her legs. "Hi, Rachel…"

The brunette smiles at her, her hands twisting in front of her stomach. Quinn glances at Brittany, stretching a few feet away. "Is there something—"

"I just wanted to say congratulations."

Quinn blinks. "Huh?"

"Congratulations. On being my understudy." Rachel closes her eyes, frowning. "That came out wrong."

"No, Rachel—"

"I'm just very happy Will has finally recognized your talent. You're an excellent dancer, Quinn, and you deserve it."

"Well…" Quinn looks at Brittany again. "Brittany deserved it more, really."

Rachel, glances to Brittany, nodding slowly. "In any case… you still deserve a congratulations so… Congratulations, Quinn."

Quinn stares at her, unsure of what to say. "Thank you, Rachel…"

"You're welcome. And if you ever want to run through the part together, I am more than open to practicing with you." And she turns on her heel, walking back to where she had been stretching. Quinn tries to go back to stretching herself, but not before Brittany leans over, smiling.

"She's open to practicing with you again, Quinn."

"Oh shut up."

"So what's your dance thing about again?"

Quinn rolled her eyes from the kitchen, glancing up to where Puck was lazily reclined on her couch. "You mean the ballet that my company is putting on?"

He shrugged, his eyes still on the television set. "Sure, yeah."

"Puck, you do know what my job is right?" She walked into the living room, carrying a plate of wings with her. Quinn hadn't even sat down next to him before Puck took a wing of the plate and sucked the meat off the bones like he hadn't eaten anything in days. She raised her eyebrows.

"Thanks babe."

"You didn't answer my question."

He blinks at her, licking sauce off his lips before he shrugs. "You dance. Like a stripper."

"Puck!"

"Like a stripper, but _classy_." Quinn rolled her eyes, nibbling at a wing as Puck reached for another one, his arm wrapping around her. "You didn't answer _my_ question."

She looked over at him, brow furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"What's your dance thing about?"

"The ballet?"

The ballet, what's it about?"

Quinn shifted on the couch, holding the plate in her lap as she folded her legs under her. "It's about a girl who's supposed to marry a boy who lives in her village. But one day a stranger shows up and, thinking that he's a peasant just like everyone else she's grown up around, she starts to dance with him. Eventually she falls in love with him, because he… he dances like no one she's ever danced with before. Her betrothed though, he gets jealous of this new guy and he starts to be suspicious. He discovers that the man Giselle is in love with is actually a Duke who's promised to marry another woman. She gets so upset and she starts to dance and…" Quinn licked her lips, glancing over to where Puck was watching her intently. "She dies."

He cocks an eyebrow at her. "Really?"

"Yep."

"Well that's fucking depressing."

Quinn rolls her eyes, laughing. "Actually it's really beautiful."

"When she dies?"

"Yeah… well, she's dancing because that's all she knows how to do…" Quinn stares down at the plate in her hands.

"I guess… that's cool?" Puck watches her carefully. "You okay?"

Quinn nods. "I'm fine, it's just…" When she looks up at him, he's turned towards her on the couch, his arm stretched out behind her and he's looking at her intently. She blinks, the words spilling out under his gaze. "Giselle was the first ballet I saw when I was little. It's was why I wanted to be a ballerina and I'm scared this is the only time I'll ever get to dance it and I'm j-just… just an alternate." His eyebrows knit together and he wraps his arms around her.

"You're a great dancer, Q."

She hugs him back, burying her face in his chest and when she talks her voice is muffled. "You've never seen me dance…"

Rehearsals go by smoothly. They all know the routines, since before any of them can remember. Quinn sits in on all of Rachel's Giselle rehearsals, noting everything Will corrects her on, following the choreography in her head as Rachel glides through it. She's putting her shoes away after rehearsal one day when the brunette approaches her.

"Are you leaving, Quinn?"

Quinn looks up anxiously, abandoning her bag without a second thought. "Um. Yes?"

"I was wondering if you would maybe stay late tonight and work on the choreography with me? I feel like it would be beneficial if both of us were on the same page as far as technique goes."

Quinn bit her lip, twisting her hands before she nodded, unable to stop herself. "Yeah. I can do that."

"You don't have any other plans?"

She did have plans. Puck was taking her to dinner or something. But she didn't have to go. This was her job after all. "No."

"Great! I'm just going to take a quick break but I'll meet you back here in 15 minutes." And Rachel turned on her heel and walked out.

Quinn was still in the studio when Rachel came back, sitting in the middle of the floor stretching, her practice tutu fluffed up around her like a cake.

"Ready?" Quinn jumped a little as the brunette appeared in front of her, hands resting at the waist of her own tutu, lips pursed.

"Yeah… we can run whatever you want."

Rachel nodded in satisfaction as Quinn stood before she turned to the piano player, her voice stern. "From Giselle's entrance." The two girls settled side by side in the middle of the room, waiting in the silence before the music began. Quinn glanced at Rachel out of the corner of her eye before they began to dance.

It probably looked strange, the two of them dancing the choreography side by side like that, two twin soloists, a blonde and a brunette, a dark and a light. Their movements mirrored and echoed and bounced off of each other and before Quinn knew it the song was over and she was a little closer to Rachel than they had begun. The other girl blinked over at her for a minute before taking a breath and calling out, "Again." Quinn threw a look to the piano player who huffed and turned a few pages back in her sheet music. Then the music started again. They were dancing and dancing and Quinn kept her eyes on the mirror, watching Rachel like her own reflection. When they were done Rachel called out for the music to repeat. After the third time, Quinn put a hand on her stomach, urging her diaphragm to stop contracting so painfully.

"Rach can we… can we just take a break for a second?" The brunette's head snapped around, her eyes harsh before they softened and she nodded.

"Yes. Fine." She waved her hand and the pianist was gone with a flick of her wrist. Quinn had almost caught her breath when she looked up to see Rachel staring at her.

"What?"

"What happened to you Quinn?"

"Huh?"

The smaller girl started to circle, eyes traveling up and down her frame. Quinn watched her in the mirror. "You were so dedicated and… driven. What happened?" Quinn shook her head, still watching them in the mirror.

"Nothing…"

"You told me Brittany should've gotten the role."

"She should've."

Rachel stomped her foot and Quinn jumped, the perfect picture of a vulture and her prey breaking in the mirror as Rachel walked away, her heads still stuck to her hips. "The Quinn I knew wouldn't have said things like that. Well, I supposed she would've said it but she wouldn't have meant it."

Quinn's hands twisted in front of her navel and her gaze fell to where her feet were in perfect first position under her. "How do you know I meant it?"

"Well, you do don't you?" Quinn looked up and Rachel was looking at her from a few feet away, near the piano. The brunette nodded knowingly. "You do." She walked towards her again and her mouth opened but Quinn spoke first.

"You just fucked me and left."

Quinn had caught her off guard and Rachel's eyebrows raised. "Quinn, I—"

"No. You fucked me. It had all that build up, all the flirting, all the… the touching… You changed me! Do you know how hard it is to tell your conservative family you're bisexual?" Rachel blinked, completely taken aback. But Quinn couldn't stop now. "And I thought you were right there with me too, figuring all this out. And then you let me… you let me do all that stuff. I didn't even want anything in return, just seeing you like that…" Quinn looked away, her voice catching on the lump in her throat. "And then nothing. You stop talking to me, you won't see me… you wouldn't even look at me." When Quinn looked up at their images in the mirror, Rachel's eyes were cast downward. The blonde turned abruptly, grabbing her by the forearms. "Look at me!"

"Quinn! Goodness—" Her face was inches from Quinn's as she looked up at the taller girl and for a moment Quinn saw the fear in her eyes that she used to see in herself. Quinn let her go.

"Sorry if I've been less than intensely dedicated. I've had a lot on my mind." Quinn was stepping out of her tutu, grabbing her things from where they were lined up along the mirror.

"Quinn… Quinn, wait!"

Quinn heard the harsh blocky sound of Rachel in her pointe shoes running after her. She whipped around quickly, glaring at her. The ballerina stopped in her path. "What?"

"You were… You were lovely today."

Quinn nodded, careful not the let her expression waver before she turned back around and let herself cry on the walk home.

A week or so later Puck is outside her building when she leaves to go to work. She tries to watch past him.

"Hey, tights."

"I'm on my way to work, Puck."

"You haven't called me in a week."

"I've been busy. Shows are coming up."

He grabbed her arm, urging her to stop walking so quickly in front of him. "I don't wait around for chicks to call me."

Quinn sighed, looking up at him as she finally stopped. "I told you… I've been busy."

"And I told you I don't wait around."

She pursed her lips, holding his gaze before she looked away, fidgeting. "I need to go, I'll be late."

"What is this about?" Quinn rolled her eyes but Puck's grip tightened on her arms, his voice demanding. Demanding, like Rachel. "Tell me."

"Do you want to see the ballet, Puck?" And Quinn looked up with as much attention she could muster, searching his face so she wouldn't miss his answer. His jaw tightened as he looked back at her.

"No."

When she got to the studio, Quinn didn't even put her things down before approaching Rachel. The girl jumped at Quinn's breathlessness. She had run to the studio, fearful of being late. "Do you want to come out with me tonight?"

"Quinn…?" Rachel glanced around at the other girls. Brittany looked up from the floor, almost amused. Quinn ignored her.

"Would you want to come out with me tonight?" Quinn took a breath. She had been debating whether or not to say the next part, it felt too cheesy and forced. But she said it anyways. "For old time's sake?"

Rachel looked around at the rest of the company trying not to stare at them but doing so anyways. When she nodded, Quinn almost thought it was for everyone else's sake. "Sure. Yes, Quinn."

Rachel met her at a bar uptown and when Quinn slid into the seat across from her the brunette was two drinks in. And there was a vodka tonic waiting for her. "You look nice tonight, Quinn."

Quinn is four drinks in and catching up to Rachel's five when they're giggling and leaning over the table as they talk.

"You really told your parents you were bisexual?"

Quinn blushes, shaking her head down at the table. "Well, I am…"

Rachel nods, sighing dramatically. "That's cool." Quinn looks up at her, eyebrow raised.

"Cool?"

Rachel gives her a loopy smile. "Yeah. It's very nice that you were so brave and open to your parents." Quinn nods slowly, her eyes hooded. She watches carefully as Rachel licks her lips. "How did you know?"

Quinn raises her eyebrows before she feels herself blush again, shaking her head. "Uh… I fucked you?" Rachel giggles, leaning back in her chair as she covers her mouth, smiling at Quinn. "And… I liked it."

Quinn shushes her as she opens the door to her apartment. "I think Santana's over and I don't…" She stops herself and closes the door. Rachel shrugs off her coat.

"You don't what?"

Quinn shakes her head, taking off her coat quickly and leading Rachel to her room. "Santana will just make a big deal out of you…" She took a deep breath, turning to see Rachel sitting on her bed. "You being here…"

Rachel blinked slowly. "Quinn."

"Yes."

"Come here."

Quinn crawled over her, her dress sliding over her head and then Rachel was on top of her. She closed her eyes, her head falling back against the pillows. Rachel slid her panties off and Quinn shifted, her hips sliding down towards her. The blonde let out a breath as Rachel's arms snaked under her legs and she felt her lips on her thigh.

When she spoke, Rachel's words were hot and vibrated against her skin. "Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded quickly, urging her hips forward. "Y-yes…" She caught Rachel's eye for a moment before the brunette's face ducked between her legs again. Quinn moaned, Rachel's lips parting her folds.

"I was just thinking… about what you said…" Rachel mumbled, her mouth still against Quinn's heat as she spoke. Her tongue darted against her clit and Quinn shivered, her hand finding one of the metal posts of her bed's headboard.

"What—oh fuck…" Rachel's teeth scraped against her clit.

"About… how you fucked me and didn't want anything in return…" Rachel's fingers were walking up Quinn's inner thigh. The blonde whimpered and her grip on the headboard tightened. Rachel's tongue pushes into her for a moment before she replaced it with her fingers. Quinn's back arched, her breathing short. Rachel's fingers pressed against her inner spot. "Come for me, Quinn." Her hips bucked at the other girl's words and Quinn bit down hard on her lip. The muscles in her stomach contracted, a calm settling over her frame before her orgasm took over. Quinn cried out, her back arching as her hand threaded into Rachel's hair, coming hard. As Quinn panted, the aftershock still flickering in her stomach, Rachel pulled away, wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb, daintily. Quinn blinked up at the smaller girl, the heaving in her chest slowed. Rachel smiled a bit. "I've wanted to do that for a really long time."

Rachel was gone when Quinn woke up the next morning. She frowned but got ready quickly. Her phone blinked, a text waiting in her inbox. But it was Puck and Quinn shook her head, not even reading it before she headed out the door.

She was ten minutes late and there was a frenzy in the main rehearsal studio when she walked in. Brittany ran over to her immediately.

"Your girlfriend quit this morning." Quinn blinked, shaking her head.

"She's not my girlfriend."

Brittany rolled her eyes impatiently. "You're not listening to me. She _quit_, Quinn." Quinn looked up at her, obviously not getting what her roommate was trying to say. "She got an offer to be a principal at a company in London. She quit. She can't be Giselle so…" Brittany held up the palms of her hands and lifted her shoulders, raising her eyebrows as a smile grew across her lips. Quinn looked over to where the other dancers were watching them now.

"I'm… Giselle…"

Brittany laughed, clapping before she embraced Quinn, squeezing her tightly. A few other dancers applauded too, offering their congratulations.

On the way to the principal studio, Rachel walks out of Will's office as Quinn is walking down the hall. Quinn hesitates before she calls out, her voice forceful.

"Rachel."

The girl turns, and Quinn is a little thrown by the sight of her in a skirt and sweater in the company studio. "Congratulations, Quinn."

"You're going to England?

"London, yes."

Wh… why?"

Rachel cocked her head a little, her brow furrowed. "I was offered, Quinn. It's clearly the correct move for my career. Yes, Will is angry but…" She smiled a little. "You'll be the lead."

"Don't do me any favors." Quinn whipped around, heading for her initial destination but a hand grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Let go of me."

"Why are you angry?"

"You did it again." Quinn snapped and Rachel took a step back, letting go of her.

"I hope you don't think this was intentional…" Quinn rolled her eyes, her jaw tight. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Rachel cross her arms. "Oh please, Quinn. I think it's high time you learned a little something about fate."

"What does that even mean, Rachel?" Quinn looked up at the tiny girl expectantly, her eyebrows raised. But the girl smirked back at her.

"Do you think everything we do is just random? Everything that happens isn't meant to happen? You weren't meant to meet me and learn something about yourself that I'm not even ready to face in myself? That I wasn't meant to take this job in London?" She pauses as her neck craned to catch Quinn's eye, a smirk still on her lips. "That you weren't meant to dance the part you've dreamed about forever?" Quinn inhaled sharply, unable to look away from Rachel. Rachel shook her head a little. "It's never been me, Quinn. I'm just a stepping stone… But this… you were meant to dance this part, Quinn. Just let it happen."

And Rachel Berry turned on her heel and walked the opposite direction down the hall. Quinn Fabray would never see her again.

The weeks get shorter. Practice is longer and longer each day. Quinn gets home later and later. One night when she gets home it's so late Brittany fell asleep on the couch waiting for her. Quinn tucked a blanket around her and collapsed into bed, falling asleep instantly. The night before the opening she stays so late the pianist leaves and she's left a ballerina without accompaniment, dancing to the sound of her own shoes on the rubber floor.

She's not sure how long Puck is standing in the doorway but when she sees him she stumbles and she stops, putting a hand on her chest.

"Jesus!" He still doesn't say anything, his hands in his jean pockets as he watches her silently. "What the fuck are you doing here…"

"I was right."

She shakes her head a little and when he takes a step into the room, she takes a step back. "What?"

"You're incredible, Quinn." The words make her stop her retreat and when he crosses the studio slowly she doesn't move away again.

"You said you didn't even want to come…"

"I've missed you."

"You don't care about me." She tries to move past him, in a hurry to leave now but he catches her by the arm.

"Don't you ever fucking say that."

"I need to go home."

"You didn't seem like you were in a rush before." He let go of her but she didn't move away, looking down at their feet. Before she can speak, he continues. "Can I watch you for a bit longer?"

Quinn looked up at him sharply. "Huh?"

He licks his lips, shrugging a little. "I liked it… watching you dance. I mean, if you want me to leave, I could…"

She shook her head. "Don't leave."

Quinn runs through her choreography in silence once again. Puck stands against the mirror, keeping his promise to be silent as he watches her. She doesn't notice but as she's tapping across the floor, moving her arms in front of her, he walks across the room and grabs her hips, pressing his face into her neck.

"Puck—"

"You close your eyes… when you dance." He kisses the skin under her ear before he spins her around, still on her toes as he presses against her. His eyes are dark and she moves her head away from him as he moves his closer. "Why do you do that…?"

"What—"

"Why do you close your eyes?" His lips brush against hers and his breath is hot. He takes a step forward, making her stumble back on her pointe shoes.

"I don't… I don't know—" And his lips are on hers and they're walking backwards again. He presses her into the mirror and the glass is cold against her back. Quinn moans against his lips, his hands finding the band of her shorts, tugging them down. She hesitates, biting her lip. "Puck…"

He looks up at her, his hands on her waist as he kisses her again. "I missed you so much… Do you know how many times I thought about fucking you?" Quinn inhaled sharply and Puck's hands travelled up her sides to the straps of her leotard, tugging them down over her shoulders.

"Why didn't you?" Quinn bit her lip as soon as she words left her mouth and he raised his eyebrows at her before his expression turned into a smirk. He yanked her leotard down in one motion and she was naked except for her shoes.

"Aren't you all uptight and shit? Girls like you, Quinn… you're like a gold medal."

Quinn's nostrils flared, crashing her lips against his before she finds his belt, unbuckling it quickly. She heard a chuckle and looked up at him sharply. "I'm not uptight." Puck pursed his lips.

"Prove it."

His jeans and boxers were around his ankles with a tug and he let out a groan. Puck's hands slid under her ass, lifting her up so she was half balanced on the barre that circled the mirrored room. His lips found hers again as he pushed into her roughly. Quinn wrapped her arms around his neck tightly as she whimpered at the sudden pressure, adjusting around him. He started a rhythm, driving into her as she let out a moan to match each of his thrusts.

"Quinn… fuck you feel so fucking good… fucking better than I imagined."

Quinn's head fell back against the mirror, her eyes sliding shut as her knees lifted up on either side of her. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders as she dragged them across his back. "Yes… oh god, Puck…"

"Say my real name…" He pushed into her to emphasize, grunting. "Say it."

Her head fell against his shoulder as her back curled, her face pressing into his neck. The name came out in a moan. "Noah…" She felt him twitch and his hands lifted her hips up, angling her so he could thrust against her spot. Quinn let out a cry before she bit down on her lip, her eyes opening for a moment, long enough to catch a glimpse of them in the mirror on the opposite side of the room. The only indication of her in the reflection was her hands on his bare back and her legs on either side of him, her pointe shoes still on. "P-puck…" Quinn let out a moan, her stomach muscles, tightening. "Noah, I'm gonna… fuck I'm gonna come…"

Puck let out a grunt of acknowledgement, his hand on the mirror beside her head to brace himself. "Fucking come, Quinn… I wanna feel it… Shit…"

Quinn let out a breath before her body tensed, her muscles contracting as she came. "Puck!"

His motions slowed for a moment, his fingers digging into her thigh. Puck let out a heavy breath before he start thrusting slowly again. Quinn whimpered, grabbing at his sides as her eyes found his, his eyelids heavy. "Puck… please come…" His head twitched, shaking slightly before he lowered her legs to the floor and turned her around quickly.

"Not yet."

Quinn reached out to catch herself on the mirror before he pushed into her again. Her forehead leaned against the cold glass as she let out a moan. Puck's hands rested on the mirror just outside of her own as he thrust into her, leaning forward to graze his teeth along her neck. "You're so fucking beautiful, Quinn… the way you dance…" His hand grabbed her hip to steady them. "Open your eyes." Quinn bit her lip, the muscles in her stomach in her stomach. Her head lolled to the side against the mirror as she let out a moan. Puck's fingers squeezed her hip, his words forceful. "Open them. Watch me fuck you." Quinn let out a heavy breath before she forced her eyes open, licking her lips as her vision came into focus. For a moment she caught his gaze in the mirror and her eyes scanned herself before she whimpered. Her eyes squeezed shut tightly.

"P-puck…"

"I'm gonna bust, Quinn… Fuck, come with me." Puck grunted pushing deep into her one last time before Quinn cried out, tensing around him as she came. She grabbed onto his arm as she panted, her fingernails digging into her skin. Puck slumped against her, his hand sliding around her hip to her stomach. They stood in silence for a moment before he mumbled into her neck. "When you dance… Quinn, you're so amazing…"

She let out a breath, leaning her head back against his, her voice soft. "I'm the lead." There was a breathless laugh behind her.

"Fuck… what?"

"I'm the lead… the other girl quit the company…"

Puck's hand rubbed her stomach softly. "You're the lead?"

"I'm the lead."

He comes to opening night. She manages to get him a seat in the front row, as he demanded, even though it was last minute and the ticket lady scolds her for the short notice. But she gets him a ticket. He even buys her flowers and she didn't have to tell him to. And they're sunflowers, not roses. Because they're her favorite. He comes to every performance he can after that opening night. He always comes carrying sunflowers. Her dressing room looks like a field of them.

A few months go past and Brittany and Santana get married. Quinn is the maid of honor and Puck is her date and Finn is the best man, which everyone makes a big joke about. Quinn has to dance with Finn at the reception just because Brittany wanted them to but as soon as he can, Puck cuts in, pushing Finn away jokingly.

It's during the toasts, when Quinn stands up to give her speech about her best friend when Puck stands up too. Quinn glances at Santana and Brittany but Santana is smirking and Brittany is clasping her new wife's hand and grinning up at Quinn. Puck takes the microphone from Quinn without even asking. Quinn raises her eyebrows and he gives her a cheeky smile before he turns to the audience.

"I know it's supposed to be Quinn's turn to talk about B and how she thought Santana was some stone cold bitch and not good enough for her best friend but…" He winks at her. "I think we can stand to go without that speech."

"What are you doing—"

"I love you, Quinn." She blinks at him and he finally turns to her. He clears his throat and it occurs to Quinn that he's nervous. "I, uh…. I knew it the first time I saw you dance. When I snuck into the studio while you were practicing, with a little help from Brittany of course." From where she sitting, Brittany lets out a bubbly laugh and the rest of the room laughs with her. Quinn keeps her eyes on Puck. He licks his lips looking back at her. "That was the only time when it occurred to me that… you didn't want to be with me because I wouldn't even give what you loved the time of day. But in that moment, Quinn… Quinn I loved you. I love you now. Present tense. And I love that you dance. I'm even gonna go ahead and say that I love ballet, even though Finn's gonna have my nuts…" Its Finn's turn to laugh from where he's sitting beside Quinn but Quinn's breath catches in her throat. Puck grabs her hand, squeezing. "I don't want to do anything that keeps me from watching you dance as many times as I possibly can, Quinn." He chuckles nervously, looking down as he shakes his head. Then he lowers himself down on one knee. Quinn hears Brittany squeal and Santana shushes her. Puck looks up at her, her hand in his own and the microphone in the other. It's the most vulnerable she's ever seen him look. "Quinn, I want to marry you… shit, I mean… Quinn. Will you marry me? Please?" Quinn's hand is on her mouth before she starts to cry, laughing a bit. His brow furrows, smiling crookedly. "Fuck, don't laugh… is that a yes?"

She lets out a louder laugh as he pulls out a ring box and she nods. "Yes! Of course it's a yes!" Puck shakes his head abashedly and pulls out the ring, sliding it onto her finger before he stands up and she can throw her arms around his neck. He lifts her up and she hears Santana whistle from the next table over. Quinn is laughing and he's kissing her temple as the crowd applauds. It feels like a show but there's a pit in her stomach that only something this real could put there.

She still lives life on the tips of her toes. She still is always on the edge, always teetering, almost on the verge of falling. A balance beam, a tight tope. But when she reaches out there's a hand to hold, to steady her. And the dancing has a bit more meaning now because when she dances, it's for him.


End file.
